The Winds Of Change Wafting In

October 15, 1995

HAVANA - — Signs of change - and of hope for more change - are everywhere in Cuba as the 36th year of its revolution comes to a close.

At the Ministry of the Armed Forces, a department has been turned into an informal employment bureau for officers being cut from the military rolls. Some are bound for Cuba's foray into foreign investment enterprises; others are being funneled to Gaviota, the ministry's tourism and travel company, which now operates hotels and an airline.

Editors at Juventud Rebelde, the Union of Young Communists' Sunday newspaper, have come up with a new supplement, "Options," dealing with private foreign investments. It even has a modest summary of the U.S. stock markets.

"We figured that if the economic changes continue, someone was going to think of something like this, so we decided we might as well do it ourselves," said Arleen Rodriguez, Juventud Rebelde's editor and a deputy in the National Assembly.

New Peugeot and Fiat dealerships have just opened in Havana, at the sites of old dealerships that have been closed for more than 30 years. Buyers still need government authorization to purchase a car, but people in Havana believe it won't be long before anybody can just walk in and drive out.

"The Europeans are opening car dealerships and luxury hotels, and the government knows that it must change," said Ricardo Alamilla, a Havana engineer. "These are important signs to us; they give us hope, great hope, that our lives will be normal someday soon."

More than 650 Communist Party members have participated in an unlikely program: a workshop on democracy directed by anti-Communist exiles from Caracas and Miami.

Seventeen seminars have been held since last year, and another is planned for next month. Party cadres from Fidel Castro down to humble militants in the provinces have participated.

The seminars, designed to expose Communist militants to a changing world, are conducted by Amalio Fiallo, a Cuban exile who lives in Venezuela. Fiallo lectures for three days about Christian Democratic political philosophy.

"It seemed like a simpatico concept; the idea of participatory democracy is one that has intrigued me for a long time," said Ricardo Alarcon, president of the Cuban National Assembly. "The fact the Amalio Fiallo project came from Caracas made it even more simpatico to us."

Raymundo Hernandez, director of Havana's trendy Cinemateque, an art movie cinema, found a new way to supplement his meager official salary: He opened a paladar, a four-table restaurant in the living room of his elegant home in the once-trendy Vedado section. Until three months ago, such an enterprise would have been illegal.

While still modest and highly restricted by most standards, human rights organizations and independent labor and press groups have begun to exhibit new flourish.

In the past month, a new Independent Cuban Medical Association and the Independent Press Bureau of Havana were launched. It is not clear, however, if they are operating with any kind of effectiveness.

Their phone lines are often broken for weeks, and their officers are detained by authorities who warn of "serious consequences."

On sidewalks, in taxicabs and in their homes, Cubans lambaste their government and lament their fate with unprecedented candor.

At Two Gardenias, a new nightclub that showcases some of the country's best-known romantic singers, the host castigates the government with biting satire.

"This country can't be fixed up," he tells the audience, which includes some high-ranking officials. "It is the native right of Cubans to endure light outages and sweat without deodorant, and there doesn't seem to be anyone, but anyone, who can do anything about it."

A diplomatic source confides in hushed voice of a confidential videotape shown to high party officials in the Palace of the Revolution, at the Armed Forces Ministry and other top centers of power in past months.

On the tape, Gen. Raul Castro - Fidel's brother and Minister of the Armed Forces - delivers one of his trademark off-the-cuff comments. Staring into the camera, he says: "This [government) can't be overthrown, but it can't be fixed, either."

Then there is the unusually large and poignant harvest of new political jokes, by all accounts one very traditional way to measure the Cubans' ability to interject change into their political process.

Particularly telling is that the jokes are being regaled with traditional Cuban elan within the highest levels of officialdom.

One joke has Cuban scientists developing a time machine so advanced that it is able to bring back to life anyone in history. Cuban leaders decide to invite three legendary leaders: Ghengis Khan, Julius Caesar and Napoleon.

During one glorious parade of the Cuban armed forces, their Cuban hosts ask the visitors from history to comment on the parade.

"If I had those magnificent Russian tanks instead of my cumbersome elephants, I could have conquered the world," says Ghengis Khan.

"Ah, those legions, those automatic rifles, what glory could I have brought Rome only if I had armies like these," says Julius Caesar.

Napoleon, who is reading Granma, the official party newspaper, is exultant.

"You boys haven't seen nothing yet," he says. "If I had a newspaper like this one, no one would have found out that I was licked at Waterloo."